Fire to Fire
by ctj
Summary: For Ganondorf Dragmire, reincarnation doesn't mean rebirth. It means growing fresh skin over a withered core. It means feeding an addiction that doesn't die with age. It means watching Princess Zelda forget him, over… and over… and over. [Multichaptered, angsty, reincarnation!centric Zelgan six-shot]
1. Part I

**Fire to Fire**

* * *

**Part I**

_"There was a silly damn bird called a phoenix… every few hundred years he built a pyre and burnt himself up. He must have been the first cousin to Man. But every time he burnt himself up he sprang out of the ashes, he got himself born all over again. And it looks like we're doing the same thing, over and over, but we've got one damn thing the phoenix never had. We know the damn silly thing we just did. We know all the damn silly things we've done for a thousand years and as long as we know that and always have it around where we can see it, someday we'll stop making the goddamn funeral pyres and jumping in the middle of them."_

-Ray Bradbury, _Fahrenheit 451_

* * *

Twenty-First December  
Telma's Pub  
_9:40 p.m.  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
New Hyrule_

The woman stands in the shade of a marble archway, tapestries and rose petals swimming in the spring air which surrounds her. A circlet is wound in her thick golden braids, and there's the hint of a flirtatious smile dying to escape her lips. Her slender neck is perpetually held at a regal angle, her piercing blue eyes drinking in her audience-

"She's very beautiful," somebody comments, and just like that, the artist's hand stills. The woman melts away from his line of vision, and he's surrounded once more by the clinking of glasses and rumbling of voices. All that remains is a sketch of the woman; it's a perfect recollection of her likeness, but all of the soul is gone. Slowly, the artist allows his pencil to rest on the bar, and glances up.

"I agree," he says gruffly. The bartender is polishing a glass as her eyes trail again over the drawing.

"Well, honey, you must be quite the artist."

He shrugs. "I do tattoos."

"That's an art. I've got one myself, though you probably can't guess where." She chortles now and points to the figure on the page. "What a darling; I know a fella or two'd pay a pretty rupee to have a picture of _her _on his bicep."

The artist struggles with that one. He knows the woman in the drawing, and she's worth more than a patch of a pervert's skin. But he also knows that the bartender only has good intentions, so he nods and gives a weak smirk.

"No doubt," he mumbles, and bows his head. The bartender lets loose a smile and leaves to refill someone's glass, her loose red braids bobbing behind her.

He returns to his sketchbook, looking wistfully at the beautiful figure one last time. Then he slams it shut and pockets it, the woman and her royal surroundings vanishing from sight.

There's a shot of whiskey waiting for him, glimmering in the lamplight. He doesn't think twice before he downs it, his throat burning as he lets out a long, low sigh. That's when he staggers to his feet, scraping through his pockets for the last of his rupees. They clink as they shower onto bar's wooden surface.

After wiping his mouth with his tattooed forearm, he shrugs on his long, thick black coat. The cotton smells familiar as he inhales it, pulling the collar close around his face and shouldering his way through the crowded pub. Mahogany chairs scrape against worn-down floorboards as people rush to abandon the hulking artist's path, and then the heavy oaken door is hoisted open, a gust of cold air swirls inside, and Ganondorf Dragmire steps out into New Hyrule City.

He's met with the blaring of car horns and loud voices. Neon lights burn his retinas and he steps a little dizzily onto the curb. Next to him, a desperate zora plucks at his guitar and howls out his own hopeless lyrics. He's left out a case for money, but it's empty. Rupeeless, Ganondorf barely spares the singer a look.

He can't ignore the hopeless lyrics, though.

"_We're slowly dyin', yeah, yeah, slowly dyin'…"_

The tattoo artist is relieved when the traffic light swinging overhead changes and cars come screeching to a halt, their engines humming as they wait. He crosses the street swiftly and passes through a tall iron gate. The city park is bitterly cold at this time of night, but somehow it is still busy. The artist passes over slush-covered cobblestones and ducks underneath bare, low-hanging branches. He turns the corner. He breathes.

That's when he hears a giggle.

It's coming from a little Hylian girl not ten feet away. She's cradling a porcelain doll in her arms. Ganondorf's stomach drops when he suddenly sees the yellow curls, the royal gown-

"...And they were meant to _be_, Gor Hanna!" the girl exclaims to a friend. Her comrade, a little Goron girl, is watching the princess doll greedily.

"Really?"

"_Yes_," the Hylian breathes. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. "Princess Zelda and the Hero of Time were born over and over again, and whenever she got kidnapped by monsters, he would come and save her. They met a zillion times without knowing they'd met before." She sighs dreamily, but her friend is confused.

"I don't get it."

Another sigh, this one of exasperation. "It's _romantic_, Gor Hanna. Just like a fairy tale."

They don't see the troubled expression on the artist's face. In fact, they don't see the artist at all. They see a shadow, tall and dark against the lamplight, and that is all.

Ganondorf drags himself away from the scene and stampedes over wet pavement. Two lovers are entwined on a nearby bench, one murmuring sickly-sweet promises into the other's ear. Something malicious writhes within Ganondorf, but he suppresses it.

_Well, _he thinks bitterly to himself, w_hat the little girl says is true. Over and over again, Link and Zelda met, in different bodies, different eras…_

_ ...but I was there, too._

Zelda's face is burning in his mind: eyes like sea glass, freckles like cinnamon, voice clear, melodic, powerful. She always was enrapturing, all of her glowing, all of her magnificent; of _course _he remembers. He owes it to her- every single one of her- not to forget.

And yet… she has forgotten him. She was always born fresh, new, and devoid of memories of her past lives- and Ganondorf, too. With every new lifetime, she forgot him, but he always remembered.

The question: _Who are you_? From her royal lips, just like that. Each word a stab wound. The accompanying smile: salt.

His response: _If only you knew_.

It aches, now, to think of her. The year is 2014 and he has made himself numb to the hatred that once cursed him. Now he tries to suppress memories from long, long ago, and turns his visions of a long-dead kingdom into artwork.

After all this time, he doesn't understand why he was cursed to always remember when all the others were allowed to forget. He can see the fortresses and castles of a thousand years ago as clearly as the city park where he now stands. The tremor of orchestra strings at the fringe of a gala are as loud as the zora musician wailing a few blocks back. Time is confusing and Ganondorf Dragmire, the once-king, is everywhere at once.

And he's thinking of Zelda again, which is pain enough in itself. He's been around for long enough now that he's seen her dozens of times, and she's always had that same impact on him… the kind of impact which makes him ache and wish that their ancestors weren't mortal enemies, or that he wasn't a demon's servant, or that she was not hell-bent on obliterating him and his power.

_I loved you every minute_, he thinks stupidly, shivering underneath a brittle oak tree. _I loved you every damned minute and you never knew_.

A thousand years a thief, a king, a rebel, a prisoner, an ambassador, a beast, a warlock, a slavedriver, a dictator, a god.

A thousand years a princess' shadow, watching her life play out from womb to the grave not once but a dozen times. A thousand years playing both her closest companion and the monster under the bed. A thousand years enduring her kindness in spite of his malevolence, and many times, the other way around.

A thousand years knowing at her birth that she will someday be extraordinarily beautiful, and watching it come to fruition again and again.

A thousand years betraying her and watching her crumble. A thousand years at war with himself and his ancestors. A thousand years fighting the voice in his head.

A thousand years trying not to fall in love with her. A thousand years failing.

And now he is here and the year is 2014 and he is thinking of her again. He's thinking of her with blonde hair and red hair, blue eyes and brown, in satin robes, in pirate wear, in a beaded dinner gown, in nothing at all.

From fire to fire, ashes to ashes, he's been born and reborn, a phoenix at heart. But she... well, she is long gone, now. She choked on the cinders before she could spark. Time has swallowed her entirely and put out her flame.

_What I'd give to see her again_, the voice in his head muses.

At least it is his own voice for once.

* * *

"Not everything set on fire will rise."

― Darnell Lamont Walker

* * *

**I've been kind of addicted to writing this fic. It came out to almost 12,000 words, which is why I'm splitting it into five or six short parts. Stay tuned for lots of drama, reincarnated Zeldas, angry demon-gods and sentence fragments. (Yeah, son.) **

**Don't forget to review!**


	2. Part II

**Part II**

_"Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!" _

**_-_**Emily Brontë, _Wuthering Heights_

* * *

_Fourth April, 1014  
__12:02 a.m. The Eastern Wing of Hyrule Castle  
__Castle Town  
__Hyrule_

The Gerudo Lord is newly crowned when he's sent to Hyrule on a mission. An ancient hatred burns within him, one that's visited him in dreams.

Whispers, whispers. Glowing eyes and flames in the thick of the night…

**Triforce****,** the awful voice says in the night sometimes. It's the same voice that compelled him to leave the desert in the first place. **Triforce, Triforce. **He knows the voice and he knows the hatred: _Demise_. Nobody told him the name, and nobody needed to.

It's the same voice that's dragged him out of bed, and now he's halfway down an empty corridor with a single candle to scare away the dark. Suits of armor cast long shadows against the walls, glaring at him through their visors. They don't trust him.

_Good_, he thinks. _They shouldn't._

He finds the entrance to the library and the door creaks open. The fire on the opposite side of the massive hall is low in the grate, and he tip-toes across the empty room. He knows exactly which book he's looking for- _A Complete Collection of Hyrulian Mythology- _as he's set it aside for private reading.

But there's a problem.

Somebody's nicked it from his hiding spot.

Frustrated, he lets out a low groan and cracks his knuckles. A faraway armchair squeaks in response, and Ganondorf goes unnaturally still.

"Hello?" he whispers. Two plump hands wrap over the back of the tall armchair and a blonde head bobs up in the firelight. They both jump in surprise.

"Who're _you?_" the blonde asks. She's recently of an intelligent age, he surmises; she is ten, perhaps, or hardly so, and still a child in every sense.

"I am a servant of the king," he answers, hoping that the child won't sense his wrongdoing.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Who are you?" He is nervous; he wonders whether she can tell.

No response; then, a pause as she ducks and tumbles behind the chair suddenly. When she reappears, she's lugging the volume Ganondorf covets in both arms.

"I found this under the windowsill. Are you looking for it, sir?"

"Were you reading it?" he responds incredulously, and notes the traces of a blush on the young girl's face.

"I'm a bookworm. Just a bit. Mother scolds me and says books are for boys, but my handmaid opens up the library for me late at night. Only sometimes, though." Her eyes go wide. "Oh, _no_. Are you going to tell Mother on me?"

Ganondorf's only response is a smile. He'll steal the book another time.

"Certainly not."

A smile consumes the girl, and he can't help it- he's smiling too. He's smiling _hard_.

That's the first time he meets her. Zelda. And he never forgets it.

* * *

After that, they are partners in crime. They sneak smiles at each other from across the dinner table. She tells him about her studies and knits him a scarf when the weather grows cold. He passes underneath her bedroom window and she calls at him from up above, displaying kindness and cheeriness the likes of which he's never seen.

Even as he feeds an ancient addiction for magical power, he can't help the softness that he feels towards her.

_I am human_, he remembers in her presence. _We both are human, and capable of complexities beyond what fate tells us._

Demise begs to differ.

**You are a madman****, **the phantom of his dreams scolds. He tosses and turns in sweaty sheets, but he can't cast off his predecessor's influence.

"_No…_"

**You are ****me, **the phantom insists. **You cannot shed that part of yourself. You cannot betray your own identity.**

"...You're right," Ganondorf lies in response. He doesn't know who he's trying to convince.

* * *

_Eighth May, 1018  
__7:00 p.m.  
__The Ballroom of Hyrule Castle  
__Castle Town  
__Hyrule_

She is fourteen and a lady and a terrible beauty. A chorus of dreamy sighs flits across the room and bounds off of Ganondorf, who does not know quite how to react. He has mixed feelings on the girl; a sense of devotion, of awe, of pride in her, something warm that has festered within him in the four years he has known her.

So, too, does he recognize her skepticism. She is unnerved by him; they were friends years ago. They took tea together, read books side-by-side, but a slip up here and there had raised her suspicions of him. Now she gives him queer glances and suspects him of awful things.

_She is right_, _of course_, he thinks from the corner of the ballroom. He watches the princess curtsy to a future suitor in white satin. A quartet of violins heralds a new waltz at Princess Zelda's annual Birthday Ball, and she floats across the room with a curly-haired, pimply boy who probably has a rather heavy wallet.

Ganondorf flees the room as soon as the opportunity presents itself and finds an empty patio in the courtyard. He struggles to make sense of his feelings for the princess, but they're as murky as usual. He is certainly not in love with her, not romantically, anyway, but he does love her in an unusual way; perhaps it is her embarrassed smile, her love of knowledge, her snark.

When she finds him outside ten minutes later, she startles him.

"Oh!"

He glances over his shoulder. "Why, Princess Zelda."

"I didn't know you were out here," she admits. She is flustered as she joins him and fans herself. "It's far too hot in there, I think."

"I agree."

"I wish that we could hold these balls outdoors, or perhaps not at all."

A smirk. "You are surprising, little Princess."

He can sense some hesitation in her response. "...Mr. Ganondorf?"

"Your Highness?"

"I- I am wondering…"

He waits for her to speak.

"...Wondering whether you have been up to anything secret."

There is the confirmation he's been awaiting. There's a dull ache in his heart as he frees a bluff into the air.

"I take my job very seriously, Your Highness, and have no intentions of putting it in peril with treachery."

He had hoped that would be answer enough for her, but it is not. When she bites her lip and fails to respond, he changes the subject.

"Your Highness, I have a birthday gift for you."

Her eyes crinkle with a smile and she glances up. "What is it?"

That's when he pulls the black leather book from his pocket and presents it.

"A book?" she asks with a surprised smile.

"I know how you love them." He smiles in spite of himself, in spite of everything. "Open it."

She complies, and gasps in surprise when she finds that the pages are blank. "What in Hyrule-"

"For you to write your own story," he explains. Zelda's mouth falls ajar. The book lands on the patio and she leaps forward, throwing her arms around his torso.

"_Thank _you," she breathes. It doesn't matter in that moment whether or not she truly trusts him; if only for a brief second, he has every part of her heart, and could ask for no more.

* * *

_First June, 1018  
__1:09 a.m.  
__Castle Town's Southern Drawbridge  
__Castle Town  
__Hyrule_

The sky shrieks with rain as Ganondorf's world crumbles, his horse coming to a halt at the edge of the drawbridge. His eyes rake the horizon for a sign of the princess, but the rain has washed away her tracks. He can feel his heart shattering- no_, no!_

Their final conversation is thundering in his head.

_"YOU MONSTER! YOU BEAST!" _

He, the thief, the cold-blooded murderer, has enacted a plan half a decade in the making.

_The Triforce- get the Triforce, you fool! _

A demand of Demise, who's sworn not to stop haunting him- or perhaps he's fabricated the hauntings himself- until the old craving for Power is fulfilled.

**You monster, you beast…**

"AUGH!" he cries out, his feelings erupting like a geyser. He can't contain his rage, and something scorches him from the inside out. "I've lost her- I've lost her-"

She's the only person he's ever cared about, _and he's lost her for good_.

And that's when he sees the dirty, green-clad boy hunched over the side of the moat. He's receiving dark, mistrustful glares, but he is desperate- perhaps this kid has borne witness…

"You! Little kid! You must have seen the white horse gallop past just now," he shouts over the rain, and wonders how to free his voice of its desperate croak.

No reply.

"Which way did it go?!"

But all he gets is a scowl.

"ANSWER ME!" Ganondorf cries, his heart pounding at the thought of the young princess, his only friend, the one whose trust he's shattered.

He doesn't know what happens next. Some sort of madness grips him and he's spewing out threats- threatening the green child, threatening Impa, threatening the princess-

And then he strikes, sending the kid reeling backward into the grass. He can practically feel the kid's pain, but he doesn't care. He's shouting, crying out, threatening the world for receiving his betrayal so gracelessly.

That's it.

That's the root of the madness.

He rides for days after that, scouring the vast fields of Hyrule for some sign of Zelda. It storms the entire time, oven-hot as lighting streaks across the sky and sets fire to the plains. At one point he gives up. His horse halts at the top of a hill, and there he is in the rain. His lungs heave for breath. He throws his head back. He is tired and sore.

"ZELDA!" he screeches. "ZELDA! ZELDA, PLEASE!"

The echo of his own voice is the glade's only answer. His eyes comb the horizon obsessively, but there is no sign of his only friend. Heartbroken, he rides back to the castle.

It is empty. He tiptoes over Zelda's dead parents, over the corpses of knights. They are no more than suits of armor to him, just like the empty ones that peered at him from the walls.

When he finds Zelda's room, it is as she left it. It is nearly clean but she's left a dress haphazardly in the middle of the floor. He doesn't know what he's doing after that. He tears blindly through her wardrobe, her dresser drawers, under the bed, but he doesn't find it.

After that, he is seething.

"UUAAAGH!" he shouts, and something sonic explodes outwards. All of the furniture goes reeling across the room, splintering and breaking. Everything- perfume bottles, books, quills, hair brushes, makeup, shoes, picture frames- ends up on the floor in a terrible mess.

The spell emits smoke, and when it clears, Ganondorf stands in the midst of his own destruction. His expression is impassive and he tries to suppress his own struggles.

_Bottle it up_, he tells himself. _Have some self control_.

**No, **Demise insists, **embrace it, madman.**

He turns and flees his old friend's room, never to look back.

In the corner, perfectly concealed by the overturned nightstand, is the subject of Ganondorf's search: a black leather book with not-so blank pages, a little frayed at the edges and loved, very, very loved…

* * *

_Fourth August, 1025  
__5:59 p.m.  
__The Roof of Ganon's Tower  
__Castle Town Ruins  
__Hyrule_

When he sees her one last time, she is poisoned by the sight of him.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO, YOU MONSTER!"

She slams her hands on her prison of pink crystal, face wrinkled in pain. Giant tears land on the base of her prison with _pings_, and she only stops screaming once she's run out of breath. Then she cries.

He can only stare. She's so much older and more beautiful than he ever could have foreseen. His heart throbs at the sight of her, and an obsession with her which only grew over the years has transformed into outright greed.

"I'm sorry," he says numbly.

"You _lie!_"

"I'm _sorry!"_

"You're a terrible, terrible beast…" Her face is hidden by her gloved fingers. "You've done such awful things… you are heartless…"

**She's right, you know.**

* * *

_"Terror made me cruel . . ." _

**-**Emily Brontë,_Wuthering Heights_

* * *

_(Psst... how am I supposed to have crazy fan discussions with you guys when you're so quiet over there?)_

Just kidding. All I hope is that everyone who reads this doesn't consider their time wasted, dark as it may be.


	3. Part III

**Part III**

_I'm burning like an effigy in here:_  
_The summer's come to haunt me._  
_And I know I'm not the sacrificial deer,_  
_But I wish you could've warned me_

_ Of the Phrygian Lion,_  
_With his excellent eyesight,_  
_At the gate of our love._

_ Under sweet autumnal skins is our myth dispelled._  
_In your strange and simple way._

-"Shield Your Eyes," Dry the River

* * *

_Sixteenth November, 1203  
__3:01 p.m.  
__The Large Chamber  
__Ganon's Underwater Tower  
__Old Hyrule_

At first, coming back to life is odd.

He is freed from the Sacred Realm, and those first few steps are terrifying. He is dazed, he is lost-

-And then he remembers.

**Welcome back.**

And the new princess is so young, so confused. She's dressed like a pirate but she's rather lost, just not willing to admit it. She's as befuddled by her own identity as every one else.

Except, perhaps, for Ganondorf.

Ganondorf remembers, and it hurts, because she does not.

When he takes her from the cellar of Hyrule Castle's submerged ruins, she refuses to show fright. She is as stalwart as the woman he recalls from his first life, and it is not until she's exhausted herself from days of defying him that finally, _finally, _she collapses right in front of him.

Now he sits at her bedside with inexplicable tenderness. He brushes the blonde strands from her forehead and sees her dreams play out like a picture in his mind. He sees rolling seas and seagulls, long, sandy shores and buried treasure. Just the sight of her is enough to feel an island breeze on his face, and the breeze stings.

**She does all your feeling for you.**

True, perhaps, he muses. She always has lacked that piece of Ganondorf which made him stoic. She is a person who is obsessed with the freedom to feel, and that's how he knows- _he knows- _that she is the same girl he loved so hopelessly a hundred years ago.

_But how?_

The question irks him. He knows it's her- knows it's his Princess Zelda reincarnated- but how is it possible? He searches for answers in her dreams and her palms and the shape of her face, but nothing stands out to him.

Finally, he consults the demon.

_How? _he asks, and knows that Demise will be quick in answering him. Within moments, he can hear the gravelly voice clear as day.

**She's like you, you fool, **the old god mocks. **She's masquerading as a human.**

_You mean she's not…?_

What is she? Ganondorf stands and paces around the girl's motionless form, watching her breathe out the ocean and wondering how she works.

"Is there a god bossing _her_ around as well?" he asks aloud. He knows it's the wrong question when the reply is vehement.

**She is Hylia reborn. The goddess is immortal. Her human form is not. When one vessel dies, she takes another. **

Something cold clutches at Ganondorf's chest. "Is that why she's forgotten everything? Forgotten _me?_"

**Zelda's human memories are too petty for Hylia to retain. Mortal memories can't transcend bodies.**

"Petty?" Ganondorf repeats. He thinks of the pain his first Zelda underwent- the warring, the bloodshed, the bone-chilling terror… "Surely, if it was so meaningless to her, Hylia would stop taking on human vessels…?"

**No, **Demise answers, his voice low. **However fleeting it may be, Hylia enjoys mortality far too much. **A pause. **Like you.**

Ganondorf takes the girl's hand in his own. It's cold as ice against his fiery skin.

"But- but she _is _the same-"

**She is the same.**

It makes losing her all the harder, when mere hours later he is sealed in stone, a sword in his head, in his heart, in his soul.

* * *

_Fifth February, 1399  
__4:00 a.m.  
__The Throne Room of Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

When he comes back to life yet again, he's far too late. Illness has taken the newest Zelda's life, and Ganondorf only sees her once: at her funeral.

This teenaged Zelda is dark-haired and lovely, or she _was _that, anyway. Whatever the case, she's beyond saving. Ganondorf sees his first Zelda's face at rest in the coffin, and it's like a slap to the face. It's the first time he's had to outlive her.

He spends those next years focused on obtaining the Triforce, but realizes somewhere along the line that he's not trying hard enough. The Regent, Zelda's cousin, senses that Ganondorf is up to something and law enforcement finds him soon enough. There's no hero for months, and when he does arrive, he realizes that nature's destroyed the cycle and that Zelda and Ganondorf have both gone their respective ways. The hero is confused and leaves Hyrule for better quests; Ganondorf rots in a dungeon.

He rots in a dungeon for nearly one hundred years.

**Don't feel bad, **Demise soothes him. **This is a part of being the bad guy.**

* * *

_First January, 1495  
__8:37 a.m.  
__The Dungeons of Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

The next Zelda pities him, and frees him accordingly.

She's the oldest Zelda yet, a red-haired beauty in her upper twenties, and to nobody's surprise, she's already married. The green-clad hero sits the throne for the first time in Ganondorf's memory, but probably not the first time in history.

"Swear an oath of fealty, Gerudo Lord, and you shall be set free."

Ganondorf smirks. He's never aged a day- immortality will do that- but he is dreadfully thin with weak, brittle hair from years spent in darkness.

"You and I both know you're wiser than to make such a proposition," he laughs, a dark edge to his voice. His eyes are upturned now to the hero, whose gaze is brutal and unforgiving. "Was it your idea?" Ganondorf mocks.

**Nothing to lose.**

"I'm not an unreasonable man, Ganondorf," the hero- nay, the _king_- remarks. "I know my morals and what they're worth. I follow them well. You've done your sentence and now you've earned your freedom."

A smirk.

"I would tether myself to all the poes of Kakariko before you."

King Link raises an eyebrow. "I'm unfamiliar."

"You are too young to remember the shadows of Old Hyrule. You are too young to remember the mold of the earth, the strength of its people."

"And because of my age you wouldn't swear fealty?" the king challenges.

"I wouldn't swear fealty to you if all my lives depended on it," Ganondorf spits.

"What about me?" the queen asks. Ganondorf's been avoiding catching her eye, because those aren't her eyes, they're _her _eyes. **Hers.**

** Oh… your precious **_**first **_**Zelda…**

The eyes have never changed. For that reason Ganondorf is both thankful and distressed.

"To you- Majesty- to you I would."

* * *

_Second March 1495  
__2:20 p.m.  
__The Gardens of Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

They take tea together sometimes, if only because Queen Zelda wants to keep an eye on him.

"You've been good this past month," she remarks over a foreign ceramic teacup. Her fashion is becoming more and more modern. Now she wears a dress with an ornamental bodice and ruffled collar, her red hair bound tightly to her skull and ornamented with a spiked crown. She claims she's both Queen and Chief Commander of the Royal Army, Navy… and she's an explorer, she adds. Her fleets of conquerers have sailed far out of New Hyrule and bring back treasures from distant lands.

"I'm happy for you," Ganondorf drones. She can sense his bluff.

"No… I can see that you are troubled," the woman says, and Ganondorf struggles with finding an answer.

**You could tell her the truth…**

It's an option.

**...but what would that be?**

_An excellent question, Demise, _he remarks internally.

"I worry for you, Your Highness," he explains. Her teacup clinks unusually loud against her saucer, and she leans back. She is a very cold woman, he realizes. Even the sunlight does not make her glow.

"You worry?"

"I worry that you are stiff and unhappy. I worry that you've taken what your teachers told you to heart."

"I have been very successful, Gerudo Lord," the queen snaps. "I have brought Hyrule into a new age while you've been rotting in a dungeon!"

"And who put me there, pray tell?!" he shouts. They get to their feet simultaneously.

"I don't know who you are, or what you know," she seethes through gritted teeth, "but I am not my ancestors! Perhaps you loved them; perhaps you loathed them… whatever the case, _do not _inflict me with your- your _prejudices!_"

Ganondorf is taken aback. "They are not your _ancestors, _foolish woman!"

"_Foolish?! _Who is the fool?! It is _you!_" she shrieks. "You are the one lost in time, Gerudo Lord! You speak of them as if they still live."

"Because they _do!_" he screams, begging her to understand with his gaze. His arms find her shoulders. She freezes. "You _are _your ancestors, reincarnated into the cycle- the great cycle that began with two mad gods- I am one and you are the other- you are Hylia- Your Majesty, surely you know this to be true."

The courtyard is empty and the queen is trembling under his grip. He's never seen such a cold creature crumble like this, and for one fleeting moment, he sees the emotion that tore apart this Queen Zelda's predecessors.

She suppresses it.

"Do not discriminate against me, Gerudo Lord. It does not suit either of us."

After that, he gives her the respect that she requests, and their friendship grows stronger with each passing day.

* * *

_Ninth July, 1495  
__9:09 p.m.  
__The Drawing Room of Hyrule's Capital Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

The fiery-haired queen and King Link are arguing again.

"I do not trust him, Zelda!" the king cries.

"_You _are the one who freed him. _You _are the one who- who _trusted your morals_-"

"And here I am, trusting them again! He must be vanquished- he is thinking malicious thoughts…"

"What are you, a mind reader?!"

"Very nearly, Zelda! I can see that you are unhappy. You have been ever since he arrived!"

What the couple does not realize is that Ganondorf is on the other side of the wall, loitering in a corridor and wondering what else they've got to say about him.

"Perhaps," the queen grumbles darkly, "he is not the one who's upset me."

A door slams and her skirts swirl about her when she enters the corridor. She stops in her tracks, eyes landing on Ganondorf. It takes her a second to register what it means.

"_Oh_," she breathes then. "Did you hear-"

"You _are _unhappy," Ganondorf says. The queen's mouth is a stiff line.

"I don't understand why you care. Your reputation as a cruel man precedes you, Gerudo Lord."

Her heels click as she marches away, and that's when he lets his feelings loose.

"You were right, you know!" he yells, voice rebounding against the stone walls. Zelda stops walking suddenly, peering halfheartedly over her shoulder.

"About what?"

His voice goes quiet. "Your previous selves- or your ancestors, as you call them- I did love them. I loved them enormously."

She smirks in disbelief. "They were children when they knew you."

"Well, that's the thing," he says, advancing upon her. "I never loved them in the same way that I love you."

She is shaking again when he reaches her. He takes her in his arms without asking, and this time, she leans against him.

"When will you accept," he asks in a low voice, "that you feel the same?"

"I do not know you," she answers, tears stinging her eyes again.

"But I know _you_."

She grunts and pulls away, her face drawn in disgust.

"You are asking me to be unfaithful to my husband," she says through gritted teeth, "and that is something I cannot do."

"Why not?"

"He has been... very good to me, Ganondorf," she says forcefully.

"And what have I been?"

"Hurtful."

"_Hurtful?!_" he mimics incredulously, yanking his hair away from his scalp. He points at her in disbelief. "_You _have hurt _yourself_- it was _your _decision to guard your heart so heavily, not mine! You have been cruel to the world and now it is returning the favor, _Your Majesty_."

Zelda's body goes tense and she takes a long, hard breath. Her gaze scalds Ganondorf with its ferocity, and for a moment, they are frozen-

"Don't you have a kingdom to destroy?!" she finally accuses. "Don't you have villages to plunder, women to rape, ancient relics to steal-"

"IS THIS WHAT YOU THINK OF ME?!" he thunders. "_Is this the man you think I am_?!"

Four fists clenched. Four eyes on fire. Two hearts beating like a storm of drums.

"So the mad god will live on in your legends, and you'll leave the man to die," he presses, a croak in his voice. He doesn't move- doesn't touch her- he knows he is unwelcome. "The mad god with a lust for power… will they sing songs about me, Your Majesty?" He's mocking her, now. "Will they sing songs about my heart as black as coal? About the dynasties I uprooted, the kings I slew, the queens I claimed as my own?! Very well, then," he breathes. "Guard yourself, you sick, stony woman."

His outburst finished, he turns on his heel and marches away. Two strides, and he stops again. "If I were truly a monster, I would finish you now," he claims, his back still turned. "You are vulnerable and pitiful… _Majesty_. And yet I am in love with you- against my better judgement, against the prophecies of old, against everything in between- I _am _in love with every rotten piece of you."

He marches away slowly. Every step is a beat of the drum, and he waits for her to respond. He waits for a word: _wait!_ Perhaps she will chase after him- the patter of footsteps- a feminine outcry…

There is nothing.

He turns around and sees a statue as still and impeccable as marble. The disastrous sight of her chills him.

_You don't realize who you are_, he thinks, willing her to hear, to understand. _You don't realize that you were happy once, and that you can be happy again_. _You don't realize I've waited centuries to see you again- to speak with you- to make you understand…_

But still she stares, breaking down from the inside-out. Something snaps within Ganondorf.

"DEFEND YOURSELF!" he howls. "FIGHT BACK!"

She inhales sharply-

Still, nothing.

Enraged beyond belief, Ganondorf flees the scene and ends up in his chambers. He slams the door and listens to his own breath as it claws at the empty air. His blood is loud in his ears and anger blinds his vision.

**Look at you, **the old god mocks. **You're a god in a person costume… and how wonderfully you stay in character.**

"Shut up," the man groans.

**But then again, I suppose you both are…**

"Do you think she knows?"

**I am certain she knows.**

"She is Hylia."

**She has always been Hylia.**

Hours pass until the sun is low on the horizon. Ganondorf is at his desk, buried in a diagram of an old temple, when a knock sounds at the door. She enters before he admits her.

"I want to tell you something."

He glances over his shoulder. She does not like quite so chilly as when he left her, but she does not look regal, either. She looks very…

**Human.**

"I know who I am- what I am. I have always known."

Ganondorf lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. He doesn't want to stand up and intimidate her, so he watches her from his seat.

"I am the goddess Hylia. I am- I am my ancestors. I am the same… this I know." When Ganondorf says nothing, she presses onward. "It was Link who convinced me," she explains. "He is the same as you and I. His predecessors bore the mark of the Triforce, and his descendants will do the same. He… he is stern with me, Ganondorf. When I was a child, he used to scold me… he says that in our last life, he was late in saving me because I was-" she exhales quickly, gathering her bearings- "-I was heartsick, and lost the will to live. I was too vulnerable, and he- the hero- failed. He read it in a book. That's why he married me… to make sure that I wouldn't die of vulnerability again."

Ganondorf watches her coolly. He does not interrupt.

"But he doesn't _understand_," she presses, tears forming in her eyes again, "that he- he has been _cruel_, Ganondorf- he and the rest of the world have caged me up- they've locked me within castle walls. They've taken away horses and books and everything else that hints at freedom. And that is why- that is why I have treated you the way I have."

A pause.

"I told myself at a young age that if I always wore armor, I would not fall sick. But my armor has kept out everything good and beautiful about being alive, and I have fallen ill of heart all the same."

She rubs the tears from her eyes and hiccups. Ganondorf still does not move, and now she looks at him.

"I _should not _love you- you have said it yourself. As gods we are sworn enemies- but as humans-" her own words are a mystery to her, and her blue eyes struggle to find a focal point. "Is it wrong," she questions, "to say that you are the only person I've ever cared about?"

Zelda stumbles forward and Ganondorf leaps up, locking his arms around her and dragging her close. His fingers tangle in her scarlet hair and he inhales for ages.

"You're shaking," she whispers.

"I know- I've just… I've waited so long..."

**You're making a mistake.**

_Shut up_, Ganondorf demands, and pushes the god from his mind.

Something happens that neither one understands. Kissing. Moving. Falling fabric. Then: sweat and heavy breathing. Skin. Confessions.

Secrets.

* * *

_Twenty-sixth August, 1495  
__6:05 p.m.  
__Queen Zelda's Study in Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

When Ganondorf enters the queen's study, she is by herself. Rain patters against the windowsill and she gazes outward. In her ornamental evening wear, she is unusually attractive to him. She's left her hair down tonight- long, loose tendrils like magma. His heart stutters when she turns and eyes him with those perfect eyes, those eyes he knows by heart.

But they are wet.

"Ganondorf," she whispers- he is both awestruck and horrified by her use of his first name- and then they collide.

"Your Majesty, please-"

"We have made a dreadful mistake," she breathes, and doesn't need to say anymore.

His world implodes.

"Have you been- you know- examined?" he asks, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. _This is impossible…_

"No. I don't need to. I- I can tell, Ganondorf, trust me on this."

He would trust her under any circumstances, of course, and nods grimly.

"Surely this is the gods' way of reprimanding our impiety," she muses. Pale and terrified, she withdraws from Ganondorf and wraps her pale arms around her chest. She hurries over to the window and throws it open, letting the rain spray against her face. Ganondorf approaches her hesitantly and encircles her with his arms.

"You are certain it is _mine_?"

"I have been faithful to somebody, at least."

**I was thinking exactly the same thing, **the voice in his head echoes, and he starts.

"What's wrong?" Zelda asks, whirling around.

**You have been unfaithful to me, **the phantom drones. **Unfaithful to your cause, Ganondorf. **

_Is this your doing? _Ganondorf asks.

**No, **the phantom replies. **This is **_**yours**_**.**

"Surely there must be some way to- to-" Ganondorf doesn't know what he's trying to say, and he eyes the part of Zelda's stomach that will soon change shape.

"Ganondorf-"

"It is only a child-"

"_Only a child?!" _the queen repeats. The rain falls stronger than before, crashing down against the windowpane. "The blood of two gods flows in your _child_, Ganondorf- two bloodlines that should never have mixed- all the forces of nature culminating in your _bastard son!_"

"Come to me, Zelda." He reaches for her, but she tears herself away.

"Don't _touch _me!"

She eyes him viciously.

"When I die- and hear me out-" she presses- "when I die, I will forget you and you will live on."

"_No_," Ganondorf grunts, and reaches for her again. She takes another step away from him.

"When that happens, leave me alone. Don't do this to me again. Don't make me fall in love with you again."

"_Please_," he begs. Her words are killing him.

"I don't care what you do. Destroy the world- fight me- drag my kingdom to ruin as best you can- but please, no more of this. I can't take it. You've- you've _broken _me."

"I thought you cared about me!"

"I do! I do care, and it was an awful mistake!"

"I love you." Nothing. "Zelda, _I love you_."

She hears. She doesn't answer.

They're the last words she hears from him.

* * *

_Twenty-seventh August, 1495  
__11:49 p.m.  
__Queen Zelda's Dressing Room in Hyrule's Capital Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

"Come quickly! Please, medics, servants, guards, _IT'S AN EMERGENCY!_"

The king's squalls of fright permeate the walls as every bell in the servants' hall rings. A crowd of doctors floods up to the source of the ringing- Queen Zelda's dressing room- and gasp collectively at the sight that meets them.

"Terrible, terrible," they say afterwards, mumbling to each other. It causes a terrible ruckus, and of course the press is being contained downstairs by the army. King Link is a disaster, and nobody for the life of them can understand what is going on.

Ganondorf's world ends when he approaches the scene a little too late.

"NO!" he cries, and he doesn't care who hears. The massive man pushes hoards of medics and servants out of the way, even shoulders the king to his side, and collapses next to Zelda's crumpled form.

He lands in a puddle of blood and reaches for the queen. She is dreadfully pale compared to her crimson-stained skirts. He pulls her cold body close to his.

"What were you thinking?!" he sobs outright. "What were you thinking, you mad woman?!"

Her head falls limply to the side and he presses his face into her neck, breathing deeply, deeply.

"I love you," he says for the thousandth time, a low murmur at first, then a scream. "Wake up! Wake up, you damn foolish woman!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" the king demands, crashing the scene. Two guards rip Ganondorf away from the queen, the frigid steel of their blades pressed against his skin. Eyes red and body shaking, Ganondorf and Link make eye contact.

**Nothing to lose.**

"She killed herself trying to terminate the child in her womb," he explains. The king's shock is unparalleled.

"My- child?" he asks in disbelief. "Or…?"

"Believe that which hurts you less," Ganondorf offers.

Link gets over his shock and points at the man accusingly. "You foul _beast_," he scorns. "_You _killed her- I know you did-" His eyes are red at the rims. _"YOU DID THIS TO HER!"_

Ganondorf doesn't argue. Link is right.

"DRAG HIM TO THE DUNGEONS! NEVER LET HIM LEAVE!" the distraught king demands, and finds his wife once more to cradle her in his arms- the wife he tried so desperately to protect from love.

Ganondorf stares at the corpse of the coldhearted woman, and wonders at the intensity of his own emotions.

**You see? **Demise scolds. **This is what happens when you take up arms against Fate. **

** Consider it a warning.**

* * *

_"It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone." _

-John Steinbeck, _The Winter of our Discontent_

* * *

**I don't really think that this fic warrants an M rating, but if you think that I should make the switch, please let me know. **

**On a slightly more lighthearted note, thanks to anyone who's been reading! It's nice to know I'm not alone in my bizarre obsession with this pairing.**


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

_"An over-indulgence of anything, even something as pure as water, can intoxicate." _

-Criss Jami, _Venus in Arms_

* * *

_Thirtieth April, 1517 12:00 noon  
__City Square  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

When Ganondorf next lays eyes on Zelda, she is her own niece, and it is her coronation day.

It's been over twenty years since he last ventured out in public. King Link damned Ganondorf to the dungeons, but an appeal in court freed him and put him under house arrest. The sentence had only been lifted when the king died of influenza, leaving a small council to make decisions on who should stay in prison and who should go free.

Needless to say, Ganondorf was released under their orders.

And now he stands in City Square, peering easily over the crowd trying to press up against the newest queen's podium.

She is more beautiful than any Zelda Ganondorf remembers. This Zelda is a spry youth of twenty-two, with thick golden hair and a pick satin gown that flutters in the breeze. Her expression is jovial and flirtatious, her heart seemingly weightless in her chest.

_Remember your promise to her aunt, _Ganondorf has to remind himself. _You promised her not to fall in love_.

**I agree wholeheartedly, **Demise remarks in Ganondorf's mind, and the Gerudo Lord scowls.

_I am not your slave, _he thinks angrily.

**No, **the response laughs. **No, you are my muse.**

Ganondorf glances at the podium again. A hush falls over the crowd as Zelda takes her place at the head of it, beginning a speech that rings loud and clear over her subjects' heads.

"My dear ladies and gentlemen," she begins, "it is my honor to stand among you today…"

The gold circlet in her hair is brilliant in the sunlight, like a halo. She is the opposite of her aunt in the way that she is a source of light, of beauty, of pure, unadulterated optimism.

This is the image he never forgets.

**You'll break your promise before the year is out.**

_Would you be quiet?! _he demands internally.

**I think you'd hate that.**

The world melts away at the edges and Ganondorf is being pushed to the side by the crowd.

"Leave me _alone_," he says, clutching his head. "Be silent!"

**You would destroy yourself without my guidance.**

"I would live as I wish without your interference!"

He's beginning to get odd looks for shouting at the voice inside his head, but he doesn't care. All that he wants is freedom.

**You would be weak without me. You would be a god without divinity, and like a fish without water you would rot until nothing was left of you.**

"I would welcome an end to the madness!"

**On the contrary, you'd be madder than ever before…**

"What?"

Silence.

"What do you mean? Take that back! Why do you say that?"

But Demise has drifted away. His presence lingers, but his voice is gone, like the promise of a shadow to come. Ganondorf's heart is pumping adrenaline in circles, but Demise is doing nothing to stop it.

He stumbles about blindly for a minute- is he free? Free to think his own thoughts, to do as he wants without facing the old phantom's scorn?

"…and together, we shall bring our beautiful Hyrule into a new era of light and life!" the new queen finishes from her podium.

A cheer explodes from the crowd, and Ganondorf's heart soars. He looks to Zelda again- golden braids and familiar blue eyes, the closest Zelda to his first Zelda of all the princesses and queens he's ever known.

The old god is silent. The illusion of freedom is pleasing to the eye.

* * *

_Fifth June, 1517  
__9:12 a.m.  
__The Throne Room of Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

"Gerudo Lord Ganondorf, I wonder whether you know why I've called you here," Zelda comments. Her voice demands attention with its melody and clarity.

"I'm afraid not," Ganondorf answers. He bows low in front of her, but Demise scorns him.

"I have called you to my side because I would like to pardon you for any misdemeanors of which my uncle might have had you accused."

"You are most generous, Your Majesty," Ganondorf says with the utmost sincerity. He glances at her through his bangs and sees an elegant beauty in a periwinkle gown, her golden hair pulled into a loose knot that suits her perfectly. She descends the steps as soon as they lock eyes and rests her fingers on the side of his face.

"You _blush_, Gerudo Lord," she flirts, and just like that, his promise to the last Zelda shatters.

"You tease me," he replies easily, and then kicks himself internally.

_Don't fall in love._

"And I should like to continue," she says with a dreamy sigh. She withdraws her hand and gazes about the room. The motionless soldiers which line the room face her rapidly when she gives the command. "Guard captain!" she addresses. "Do me the favor of fetching _darling _Impa and asking her to prepare a chamber for Lord Ganondorf Dragmire."

"Dragmire?" Ganondorf repeats immediately.

"It means _Fire Thief _in the ancient Hylian tongue. Are you not Gerudo?"

"I am."

"It is said that the Gerudo Desert was once the cinders of a great fire. That's why it was always so dry."

"Do you read often?" Ganondorf asks hopefully. He receives a shy smile.

"I read _endlessly_, Lord Dragmire. And you know…" she bows down close and winks. "I write, too."

_Don't fall in love._

"You write?"

"Oh, all _sorts _of things."

"Such as?"

She exhales, playing with a strand of hair to hide her blush. "That is a secret, I'm afraid."

_Don't forget your promise._

* * *

_Seventeenth June, 1517  
__7:00 p.m.  
__The Dining Room of Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

Some days, he feels as if he has turned back time.

The halls of Hyrule's Capitol Palace haven't changed much since the days of his beautiful scarlet-haired Zelda. Its occupants dress differently and speak with a new accent, but the palace itself has remained unchanged.

He visits rooms he knows by heart. He finds the gardens where they once took tea and sits in the sunlight for awhile. He recalls how out of place that stiff, cold woman looked in the light of day.

Then he finds his old chambers. The bastard was conceived here- the bastard that never lived. It had been barely a month old when Zelda tried to rip it from her womb…

It is with reluctance that he tracks down her old dressing room. The door squeaks as he wills it open, staring into the cavernous room from the outside. He's surprised at what he finds. The room's been used recently. There's a dress hanging over a chair and a pair of shoes left haphazardly on the floor. On the vanity there is a bottle of perfume, a lace fan, and a comb. He has always pictured this place as a tomb- has always assumed (without thinking) that Zelda's body, her bloodstains, and the beginnings of his child's body have been left in this room, untouched, unbothered-

But, no. The illusion disintegrates, and he realizes that Zelda's body is resting on a hill somewhere. The sun sets on her gravestone daily, and King Link is almost certainly buried next to her. The headstone probably reads _Here lies His Majesty King Link and his beloved wife, Her Majesty Queen Zelda._

There is a name missing.

_Here also lies her unnamed child; in its veins ran the blood of two gods, forbidden by the heavens but commanded by nature-_

"Ah!" Something shatters not two feet behind him and he whirls around. The golden-haired Zelda stands white of face in the doorframe, a broken teacup at her feet.

"I apologize," he says immediately, and brushes past her in an attempt to escape. He's halfway down the darkened hallway when her voice stops him.

"Did my aunt truly kill herself in this room?"

He freezes. "Why?"

"Because that's what I've been told, and I am wondering whether it's true." When he refuses to answer, she sighs. "I know of your affair with you, Lord Dragmire."

He glares. "How?"

"I've read of it. She- she wrote about you, Lord Dragmire."

_What?!_

"You brought her great happiness during her short life."

Ganondorf swallows heavily.

_She's not truly dead_, he wants to say. _She is alive in you, Your Majesty._

But he doesn't say the words that destroyed that last woman. Not yet. Perhaps ignorance will keep this Zelda alive.

"Did she kill herself?" the young queen asks again. Ganondorf allows himself to catch her eye, and he sees all of his beloved Zeldas alive in her gaze.

"Your aunt's death," he explains, "was a tragic accident. She was not- she was not trying to die, she… she was…"

He can't figure out which words are the right ones. He feels like even speaking of the incident is to disrespect her memory. In the end, he gives up and falls silent. Let the girl figure out the rest for herself.

"My aunt's portrait is in my study. My uncle had it hung there before I inherited it from him. Would you like to see it?"

"No," Ganondorf answers firmly.

"You mean you don't want to see her again?"

His eyes roam over the young woman.

_Don't fall in love._

"I see her," he mutters, "when I look at you."

_Don't forget your promise._

He hates himself when he realizes that Zelda is blushing.

"You know," she says quietly, "I've wanted to meet you ever since I learned your name. I used to wonder about you sometimes. Wonder what you looked like, what your voice sounded like- how you smelled-"

"And were you disappointed?"

"Rather the opposite, actually." She is leaning on the doorframe as she speaks, half of her body basked in the light of her dressing room window, the other half shrouded in the darkness of the corridor.

_Remember your promise._

"She loved you with all your heart, you know," Zelda says. "She thought you were a great man with an awful weight on your shoulders. She said that you sickened her but you brought her joy. That you had cold eyes and never smiled. That you were often angry. She liked you best when you were angry because it meant you felt something."

"I always thought the same of her."

He's walking towards her now, but only because her eyes are reeling him in.

She _wants _him to break his promise, whether she knows it exists or not. And so they stand together in the darkened hall, her hand finding his and guiding it to the bare skin of her shoulder. He grasps the lace of her collar, testing her boundaries and finding with an equal amount of terror and pleasure that she seems to have none.

"Lord Dragmire…"

_Don't fall in love_, he thinks, and kisses her.

* * *

_First July, 1517  
__7:00 p.m.  
__The Dining Room of Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

When they finally dine together, they dine _alone_.

"I've asked the servants to leave us be," Zelda explains. She is running her index finger around the rim of her wineglass absentmindedly, eyeing Ganondorf through her lashes and biting her lip. "Poor Impa _implored _me not to seek a private session with you. Not after what happened last time."

Last time: A royal council, each councilman seated at a table, waiting for the queen to arrive…

And when she did arrive, with wet hair and rosy cheeks: _"It was the Gerudo Lord! He convinced me to join him for a swim… I'm afraid I lost track of time!"_

Now she sighs and flops back in her chair, eyes fixating on Ganondorf's face. "But you know how Impa is," the queen drones. "She _babies _ the _gods _I finally convinced her that I should prefer to be left to my own devices."

"Do you have a reason for that?" he asks without needing an answer.

"I've told you I'm a _writer_."

"You have," he murmurs.

"So give me something to write about, Lord Dragmire…"

Then they're kissing over the table and Ganondorf's world is igniting. Her hands fold around his neck and she kisses him hard, dragging herself onto the table and knocking dishes onto the floor. Ganondorf's body temperature skyrockets and for just a split-second he gives into this Hylian beauty, the very woman he's trained himself to love without even having to know her-

_Breaking your promise again…_

His scarlet-haired queen flashes into Ganondorf's mind. He doesn't realize he's pulling away until the golden-haired beauty's face falls.

"What's the matter?" she asks, her hushed voice sultry and pleading. "Did I do something wrong?"

His face is stiff as stone. "No, I did."

She pulls back just the slightest bit. "The history books say you're a monster, but I don't believe them, you know."

It's enough for him. He drags her closer to him and kisses her with everything he has like he's always wanted to. She grips the tablecloth as they sink to the floor, dinnerware clanging and shattering on the tile as it rains down around them.

_Your promise died with your last Zelda, Gerudo Lord..._

It's not the first time that this has happened.

* * *

_Sixth June, 1517  
__12:03 a.m.  
__Queen Zelda's Chambers in Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

_You liar. You villain. You oathbreaker._

Even though the thoughts belong to him and him alone, he hears them almost in Demise's voice instead of his own. The old god has been dormant for months at Ganondorf's own request, and as a result, he's started making up for it by scolding himself whenever possible.

"Get out of my head," Ganondorf utters into the wind. He's standing on the balcony, the glass doors wide open behind him. He can make out Zelda's outline on the bed, her white skin glowing in the moonlight.

_Demise is a part of you, _he tells himself in response. _More so than Zelda is, at the very least._

Ganondorf scowls. "You're asking me to be a monster, not a person!"

_That's what you are._

"That's _not _what I am!" the Gerudo says harshly, realizing in the process that he's countering his own argument. He hardly cares. "It's _not_- I am human!"

_Humans don't live for centuries._

That's true. Enraged with himself and even annoyed at Demise's silence, he threads his fingers through his own hair and tries to suppress his own self-depreciating thoughts.

_ Nice try._

"_LEAVE ME ALONE!" _he shrieks against his will.

_Oh, you do miss Demise..._

"Lord Dragmire?"

His thoughts vanish in a _poof _at the sound of the queen's inquiry.

"Lord Dragmire, aren't you cold?"

Ganondorf turns to face the figure reclining in the bed. She is perfect as porcelain, and the heat of desire boils in his blood.

"Gerudo are rarely cold," he lies, and returns inside. He clambers onto the mattress and rests a hand on the queen's cheek. Her blue eyes are round as buttons as he lifts a heavy lock of hair behind her ear and kisses her there. He keeps his eyes closed for a long moment- and then opens them. And stops.

"Where did you get that?!" he asks suddenly, his heart struggling to beat properly.

"Get what?" The young queen turns her head, eyes resting on the nightstand. There, caught in a ray of moonlight, is a thin black book bound with leather. Ganondorf's blood rushes hotly at the sight of it.

"That book."

"_Oh_," she replies, and extends a bare arm towards the volume. "I told you, I'm a writer. It's my diary."

"Yes, but where'd you get it?"

"Truthfully?" she asks with a short laugh. "It was my aunt's, Lord Dragmire, and her mother's, and _her_ mother's… the relations are a bit foggy after that."

"May I see it?"

Hesitation. "I suppose," the queen answers after a long sigh, and offers up the volume. Ganondorf's hands grip the familiar leather, and for the first time in a long time, the gold symbol on the back of his right hand throbs.

"What does that mean?" asks Zelda at the sight of the Triforce. That she doesn't recognize the symbol is somewhat annoying to him.

"It means," Ganondorf replies, "that the Triforce is remembering."

He opens the book nervously to the first page, and his heart seems to stop altogether.

_This diary is the property of Princess Zelda II, gifted unto her by the Gerudo Lord Ganondorf, Ambassador to the King, on May the Eighth, Common Era 1018..._

"Can I have it?" he asks before he can stop himself. He can feel the world spinning about him. _This was her book_, he thinks in disbelief. _This is the very same I gave to her on her fourteenth birthday…_

When the current Zelda doesn't reply, he glances up. He's shocked to find that her lip is trembling. Fresh tears prick the edges of her eyes.

"Lord Dragmire?"

"Your Majesty?"

"Be honest with me- when you're kissing me- when you're laying with me- are you truly laying with _me_, or with my ancestors?"

He is taken aback by her accusation. "Why- you're all the same woman to me," he says, and it's clearly the wrong answer. Zelda bursts into tears.

"I am my _own person_, Lord Dragmire," she snaps. "I am not my aunt- I am not my ancestors- and I am certainly not the girl to whom you gifted this book!"

"But you _are_," he insists. "Your eyes-"

"-Belong to me alone," the queen answers. "It's a new era, Lord Dragmire. I'm a modern woman- I belong to myself, and I can cast you aside just as easily as I've cast aside every other suitor."

_Other suitors?_

He absorbs the sight of her. She is beyond lovely, and the part of him that is purely human, purely carnal, is overcome with greed. "I can cast aside the women of the past if it is your wish."

"No, you can't."

"What?"

She is shaking her head, her face a crumpled mess of tears. She seems betrayed. "If you could love me and me alone- if you truly could forget the women who came before me- then you'd bring yourself to set aside that awful book."

The black book trembles in his fingers, and he tries to comply. He holds it out over the edge of the bed, ready to drop it to the floor-

It's about to slip from his fingers when suddenly he sees a ten-year old girl curled up in a too-big armchair, a fourteen-year old girl in a ball gown, a pirate girl breathing out oceans, an ebony-haired princess in a coffin, a crimson-haired woman drowning in her own blood…

He clutches the book to his chest.

"No," he says, wondering when he became such a mess to begin with.

_You're weak_, the memory of Demise scorns.

"Get out," Zelda demands, and it's like a slap to the face.

"_What?!_"

"GET OUT!" She finds a lumpy velvet pillow and slams it against him, knocking him sideways. "GET OUT, GET OUT!"

He scrambles out of her bed and stands alone in the middle of the room. She grabs a heavy book and throws it at him with everything she has. He stumbles backwards and protects the black diary with his arms. The girl in the bed screams for the guards, lies that she has been assaulted, panics.

"I love you, _please, I LOVE YOU-"_

But even as he's shouting it, he knows that it's just an excuse. The woman in the bed is precious to him, but not in the same way that the others have been. She's been a distraction- an awful, heart-wrenching, intoxicating distraction… but her luster is limited.

He doesn't love her like he loved the others. All this time he's loved her lips and her skin and her stunning features, but that is all worthless in the end.

_I did not love the part of her that is eternal, _he realizes. _I loved the part of her that would die with age- I have lost sight of the divine, and without it, I am nothing._

That is when he knows what it is he must do.

The door is thrust open and steel-clad guards thunder into the room. Everything is a blur as the soldiers pile on top of him. Rage froths about in his chest and he wants to scream, wants to attack- he can feel an urge towards violence building up within him-

And he explodes out of his own skin. The heat is too much to bear. His bones grow and re-mold into something monstrous. His face contorts into something awful. Tusks erupt from his face and a snout protrudes between them. The Triforce of Power is screaming, the world is falling away, and Demise is laughing.

**Ha… ha… ha…**

* * *

Centuries pass, and Ganondorf Dragmire is lost to himself. A beast, he tramples the earth and drags Hyrule to ruin over and over again. He and Demise think as one, both with an insatiable desire for the divine, and nothing else.

He meets Zelda half a dozen times in the three-hundred years that follow. His gorgeous, educated, flirtatious Zelda falls at his hands and enrages a boy Hero who's half in love with her when she dies. The next Zelda is a meek brunette, but Ganondorf- or, rather, Ganon- cannot tell anything beyond that. His rage and monstrosity blinds him.

The beast dwells endlessly on the Triforce. When a muscular, tomboyish Zelda and her old friend the Hero try to stop him, they are only half-successful. Ganon is sealed away for half a century before he breaks out of his sacred prison, and this time, his anger is doubly powerful.

The next Zelda is barely twelve and violently ginger. She loses the battle and the kingdom goes down with her. Her successor, a platinum blonde built like a prima ballerina, is a ferocious archer and takes her kingdom back with the "Hero" stumbling behind her.

The passing decades are white-hot to Ganon as they flash by. He hardly has the ability to make sense of them. All he can register is a sort of tossing back and forth of thrones and ancient relics. Sometimes he is king, sometimes a prisoner, but either way he's a foul bore with dark, matted fur and a thirst for blood.

Demise loves every minute. He refers sometimes to Ganon as his steed.

**Your mind**_**, **_he adds with a smirk, **provides me with reins. **

When he's finally sealed away again by a muscular brunette Zelda, it is the last that his godly form can take. He drifts in and out of consciousness for a small eternity, and when he reawakens, he is a man again.

At first he can't believe it. The mortal part of his mind is freed from its cage for the first time in ages, and he is abhorred at the realization of what his immortal form has done. When he returns to the fields of Hyrule, the horizon is brimming with new cities and factories, a stream of smoke bellowing up from the skyline.

The world has changed in the time that he's been gone.

**That doesn't make it worth any less to you, **Demise reminds him. **The Triforce is still out there.**

_So is Zelda_, Ganondorf thinks, his obsession returning. She is out there, somewhere…

There is something silver and weighted at his belt. By the time he notices it, he's already crossed through the gates of the bustling New Hyrule City.

"What is this?" he asks aloud, and holds it up to the light. A shout sounds from behind him.

"Oi! No guns inside city walls!" a policeman yells.

**Give it a try, **Demise laughs. Ganondorf complies, his mouth bending into a smile when the policeman falls at his feet.

"What kind of magic…?" he mutters. _Bang! Bang! _Before long, nobody stands in his way.

The spires of a distant castle pierce the smog and a grin creeps across Ganondorf's face. _Zelda_, he thinks. _Zelda- Zelda- ZELDA!_

* * *

_"I admire addicts. In a world where everybody is waiting for some blind, random disaster or some sudden disease, the addict has the comfort of knowing what will most likely wait for him down the road. He's taken some control over his ultimate fate, and his addiction keeps the cause of his death from being a total surprise." _

-Chuck Palahniuk, _Choke_

* * *

**Two more parts to go! Shoutout to the ZelGan fandom for still existing. A second shoutout to readers who aren't a part of the ZelGan fandom but somehow wound up here anyway.**


	5. Part V

**Part V**

_"It is vain for the coward to flee; death follows close behind; it is only by defying it that the brave escape."_

_-_Voltaire

* * *

First_ August, 1813  
__1:08 p.m.  
__Princess Zelda's Chambers in Hyrule's Capitol Palace  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

The door slams shut and the new princess whirls around in shock.

"I didn't hear you knock," she blurts out, but seals her lips when she views the face of her visitor. "You're not Impa, nor a servant-"

"My name is Ganondorf Dragmire," the caller says immediately. He begs her silently to recognize him, but as usual, she is clueless.

"...The beast?" she finally responds, the words a mere whisper. This Zelda gets to her feet with the same posture that every other Zelda used. Her surprised expression is nearly the same. She is more proper, perhaps, than the woman with whom Ganondorf last spoke- and she is certainly clad more heavily- but she is still _her_, through and through. He finds himself flooded with joy in spite of the circumstances.

"I've waited- _ages_-" he stutters. His words are crumbled but he doesn't care. "Please don't send me out."

To his surprise, the princess isn't terrified.

"How old are you?" he asks. "I want to know."

"Nineteen."

"I thought you might be- I thought-"

The princess stands at her full height. "Are you here to kill me, Lord Dragmire?"

His breath catches in his throat. "Is that what they call me?"

"That's what the owner of the diary called you," she replies, searching in her nightstand and withdrawing the black leather book.

_She still has it!_

"Please," she says, very calmly, "don't kill me. I know what happens if you do."

But he's just standing still in the middle of her bedchambers, reaching for the book and clutching it to him. He wonders how many hands it's passed through- wonders how many times his beloved has leafed through its pages, and with how many different hands.

"Are you- are you quite present, Lord Dragmire?"

Her words swirl about in his ears.

"Why aren't you frightened of me?" he asks, and realizes that his tone sounds accusing.

"On the contrary," she replies, a tremor in her voice, "I'm rather terrified- but you see, Lord Dragmire- I've been waiting for you. I've read… _everything_. And I know who you are."

"Are you going to cast me out?" he questions. "Are you going to throw me in the dungeons?"

"Is that what you would have done to me?"

"No."

"Then no."

* * *

_Eigth August, 1813  
__12:00 noon  
__City Square  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

The first week passes in pure bliss.

A friendship blossoms and Demise stays quiet. The well-read and properly-behaved Zelda comes closer to remembering her past selves than all of her predecessors, and unlike them, she comprehends the truth of the situation. She knows that she is that same woman in a new body.

"And that's why," she explains to Ganondorf over the edge of a fountain, "you don't frighten me. Because you see… if I loved you so fervently in the past, then surely there is a part of me that longs for you now."

It's the clearest Zelda's ever made her feelings towards him, and also the first time she directly states what she has been feeling over the course of many lifetimes.

"Even the Zeldas that opposed you felt something for you," she admits, plucking the petals off of a rose and allowing them to drift onto the city fountain's surface. Pedestrians close the pair in on all sides, but they feel rather secluded on this sunny afternoon.

Ganondorf watches the crimson petals drift across the water's serene surface. Zelda's reflection catches his eye, and she smiles wistfully.

The perfect moment lasts a few more seconds, and Ganondorf appreciates them for all they're worth-

Then the crowd parts and a man comes stumbling forward.

"ZELDA! _Damn you_, Zelda, you had be worried sick!"

Two hands close over Zelda's shoulders and she stumbles backwards with a shriek. Ganondorf catches the eye of Zelda's assailant, and the person he meets on the other side is a sweaty, shaky teenager in top-hat. A green top-hat.

"Let me _go_, Link!"

"This is _him_, isn't it?" this century's Hero scoffs, and stares Ganondorf up and down. His mouth contorts with rage and he spins the princess about.

"I thought I warned you about him! I thought I told you to stay far, far away-"

"Well, I'm not sorry!" the princess snaps, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Have you been reading that ridiculous book again?!" Link accuses. Zelda's hands form fists at her sides.

"If you read that diary, you'd understand!" she cries. "It's the only written truth left about Ganondorf- he's not the same monster that the history books make him out to be!"

**If only, **Demise teases, fully aware that his commentary is unwelcome.

"Well, then," Link says brushing past Zelda and standing before Ganondorf, "_you _again! You've hurt Zelda, I know you have, and you'll do it again, damn you! A duel- how about it- right now, so I can finish you off properly and go back to courting her like I was two weeks ago-"

Ganondorf withdraws his silver gun and allows the point to land on Link's forehead.

"Another word, Hero, and I swear to the gods-"

"POLICE!" Link shouts, and an earthquake of footsteps meets Ganondorf's ears. His eyes raise to meet Zelda's. They are wide with fear.

"RUN!" she screams, and that's motivation enough for him.

Ganondorf turns and stumbles through the crowd. _Bang! _A bullet tears his shoulder open and the pain rips him apart, a throbbing red confusion blurring his vision. He trips over a crate and stumbles around a street corner, sliding sideways into an alleyway and edging past a dumpster.

His hand grips his wounded shoulder. Hot, scarlet blood coats his fingers, and when he pulls away, the stained hand is resonating with the light of the Triforce. All three pieces haven't been in such close contact for centuries, and now they're longing to be reunited.

**You have a mission, **Demise reminds him. **Stop letting her cloud your vision!**

_I should like to say the same about you_, Ganondorf thinks resentfully, and the battle of his soul rages on. Zelda… or the Triforce?

But there's no time to dwell on that now. He sidles through the alleyway and ends up choking on a puff of thick smoke. He's on the first floor of a factory before he knows it, fire bellowing in all places, steam emitting from pipes. Men and women are shouting at one another, working tirelessly at tall and complex machines.

The police are getting closer.

"THERE!" he hears an officer shout, and he's running again. He climbs a winding staircase and shoots blindly, wildly, at the officers storming towards the staircase. A few fall, but Link plows over them and climbs the stairs two at a time…

Ganondorf clambers out of the window and lands on a rickety piece of scaffolding. It's beginning to rain and the wind whips at his fiery hair.

This part of the factory is still under construction and Ganondorf leaps from beam to beam, Link just behind him. Finally, they're on the roof of the factory, Ganondorf dripping blood, two pistols aimed at one another.

"Shoot, then," Ganondorf finally says. "Isn't that what you want?!" "NO!"

A door is thrown open and Zelda ascends to the roof by herself. She throws herself into the crossfire and the two guns quiver in place.

The hero is a silhouette against the stormy sky, revolver in hand, the perfect image of a regency hero in his tailcoat, his top-hat, his silver pocket-watch. Zelda stands between the future-artist and the determined hero, beautiful and regal in her dinner gown, hair wound into an elegant bun. Her face is plastered with tears, and she's shaking her head back and forth, back and forth…

"Pray, don't kill each other- it isn't right, it isn't decent-"

"Out of the way, Highness," Ganondorf demands, his pistol hovering in midair and pointed straight at Link's head. The hero's silver revolver is shaking wildly in the boy's nervous hands, a gold Triforce piece letting out anxious, sporadic bursts of light. There's sweat on his brow.

"The monster's right, Princess. Step aside, I implore you-"

She's shaking wildly, eyes puffy, red.

"No!" she cries, and her voice cracks. Her hands are balled into fists. "I shan't have it- your deaths will destroy me-"

"You're joking- tell me you're joking-" Link begs, and points accusingly at the future-artist. "THIS MAN IS A BEAST!" he cries. "HE MUST BE STOPPED! HE MUST BE-"

BANG! A bullet buries itself in Link's shoulder, and he stumbles backwards. His hand shoots to his breast, and rubs off bloody. His eyes are wide; his lips tremble.

Zelda whirls around, her face written with shock. The tip of Ganondorf's pistol still hisses with smoke, and he lowers it slowly, slowly… he advances upon the hero, one step, two, three.

"You- monster-" Link spits out blood with each resentful remark. "YOU'LL DRAG THIS KINGDOM TO RUIN!"

"I'LL DO AS FATE COMMANDS!" Ganondorf replies, his heart thrashing in his chest. Now his Triforce piece writhes in his soul, the mark on his hand burning like a fire and taking control of him. The madness feels good, thick and hot in his blood.

**You've made your decision, haven't you… after all this time?**

Link's hand rummages for something, and Ganondorf can't see what it is- doesn't even have time to guess before the second bang comes, awful and unwelcome- Ganondorf braces himself-

"AUGH!"

He feels nothing. Link's pistol-hand shakes violently- his eyes widen- _no_, his expression says, and then the "hero" is dead, dead, very dead.

But the future-artist doesn't watch or care as he finds Zelda- bloody, shaking, wounded Zelda- and grasps her, pulling her to her and sinking with her as she collapses.

"Look at me- Highness, look at me, look at me-"

But all he sees is pallid skin and pure, awful terror. He sees the girl, and this time she's blonde, with angled blue eyes that crease at the corner, and the lips are thin, like her mother's, her mother's mother's, her grandmother's-

He sees her and he unwillingly sees her ancestors. There's a great burning in his chest and in those moments he hears conversations with the first Zelda he ever met, blonde as well, he sees old Zeldas in ball gowns, old Zeldas with their noses buried in books, old Zeldas giving speeches, old Zeldas stark naked in bed, old Zeldas smiling at Ganondorf without realizing that he killed her once, and that he'll do it again.

Her breathing is rapid and she finds his hand, brushing her thumbs over the Triforce mark, Power and Courage both glowing with urgency as the third piece, Wisdom, drifts into him.

"Y-you-" she chokes on her words, and he stares in utter disbelief.

"Zelda-"

"You're not- not a b-beast… Ganon… dorf…"

And then she gives an awful shudder and grows still, glassy eyes watching the sky. His hand throbs- all three Triforce pieces are there, its image slowly materializing in the center of the factory roof. Dragging Zelda's corpse with him, he lets his hand hover over its surface. It emits heat, and here it is, the moment he's been waiting 800 years for-

He gives an awful outcry.

_You're not a beast,_ she said. _You're not a beast, Ganondorf, you're not a beast. You're not a beast- not a beast! Not! A! BEAST!_

The choice is his.

**Make the decision- make it now- NOW!**

He slams his hand onto the great golden relic's surface and is surrounded by a whirlwind of gold, the wind rushing about him and stealing the air from his lungs.

"Make your wish, O Bearer of the Triforce, Chosen One of the Goddesses… allow the Hand of Fate to guide you," a voice echoes in his mind, and his face crumples with pain. He clutches Zelda's body close to his chest, rests his lips in her hair.

"I wish," he says through gritted teeth, "that the Triforce was done away with!"

**NO!**

"That my obsession was ended- my cravings diminished- Triforce, I wish for freedom! I wish for freedom from fate, from this damned cycle- and when I die- and I will die, someday- when I die, kill me properly- end me right- and please, I beg of you-" his eyes are clamped shut- "free me from the hellish deity called Demise!"

_**IF YOU END THE CYCLE, SHE'LL NEVER BE REBORN! **_

"Free me, Triforce!"

_**NO! YOU'LL HAVE NOTHING LEFT- NOTHING!**_

"FREE ME NOW!" Ganondorf begs, the sky crashing down around him.

_**NO!**_

Ganondorf falls to his knees and the Triforce splits right down the middle, each piece cracking outward until finally it explodes into millions of dust-sized shards, landing on the roof in a golden pile that washes away with the rain.

He collapses and his body is wracked with sobs. Zelda's frail, finished corpse is cold in his arms, and for a long time, he doesn't move.

He wonders whether this is it- whether this is the end- whether he, too, will wash away with the rain, and whether Zelda will drift away with him.

Ganondorf Dragmire holds Princess Zelda close and breathes her in. His shoulder bleeds and his energy is gone. He's undergone too many years of splitting pain and agonizing loss. All he ever wanted was her, but now she is gone- he is convinced of it…

His head is unusually quiet. Demise is long-gone, and for the first time in his life, Ganondorf Dragmire belongs to himself.

But he doesn't, really.

He belongs to Princess Zelda.

He always has.

* * *

_"Better to die fighting for freedom then be a prisoner all the days of your life." _

-Bob Marley

* * *

**Speedy updates because I want to get the whole thing uploaded. One more paaart~**


	6. Part VI

**Part VI**

_All I want is nothing more_  
_To hear you knocking at my door_  
_'Cause if I could see your face once more_  
_I could die a happy man I'm sure_

_But If you loved me_  
_Why'd you leave me?_  
_Take my body_  
_Take my body_  
_All I want is,_  
_And all I need is_  
_To find somebody._  
_I'll find somebody like you._

_-_"All I want" by Kodaline

* * *

_Twenty-Second December  
__City Park  
__7:32 a.m.  
__New Hyrule City, Lanayru Province  
__New Hyrule_

Ganondorf doesn't realize he's fallen asleep on a park bench until suddenly he's waking up. A red sun is breaking over the tops of the skyscrapers, and he drags himself into a sitting position. Someone's lain a newspaper across his chest as some sort of sick blanket, and he peels it away from his coat.

_Breaking News_, it reads, and proceeds to tell a meaningless story about a singer nobody really cares for. Her engagement. Something.

He'd fret about having been robbed, but the last of his money is gone. He only really has one possession which he cares a trifle for, and besides, nobody's about to steal _that._

Swinging his legs over the side of the bench, he withdraws his sketchbook from his pocket. The black leather is a lot more frayed than when he first bought it for Princess Zelda a thousand years ago…

He flips to the first page.

_This diary is the property of Princess Zelda II, gifted unto her by the Gerudo Lord Ganondorf…_

The next few pages are short poems and a small sketch of her friend Ganondorf. The pages after that belong to the pirate princess, who's drawn the ocean. There are several pages for the black-haired princess, who wrote heartbreaking poetry in her final hours before illness took her.

Then there are long pages in the slanted writing of the red-haired queen. The pages are devoted to Ganondorf- long letters addressed to him, and passages of introspection. The queen's own confusion is apparent in her words.

He's walking as he reads, and he glances up from the book for a second to cross the street and lands in the blue shadow of a great skyscraper. Goron-shaped mannequins in lumpy snowflake sweaters peer at him from a shop window, but he ignores them. He passes a rich-smelling bakery and returns gradually to his book.

The next pages belong to the golden-haired youth, who really was a writer- a writer of scandalous novellas, at least. Her passages are short, intense, and graphic. She always was a ticking time bomb… nobody that vibrant ever can last.

Chapters follow from Zeldas who, even now, remain obscure to him. Then there are two pages' worth of writings by the last Zelda he ever met, the one who died in his arms that day on the factory rooftop… In the dead of night, he had snuck into her chambers to salvage the diary. He knew in those moments that she would be the last Zelda. No longer was there a Triforce to draw Hylia back to earth. If Hylia were ever to take another vessel, it would have to be for something just as spiritually powerful as the Triforce...

He rounds a street corner and reads her words at the same time.

_I have a feeling_, the passage goes_, that I have known Ganondorf for all of my life even though we met only yesterday. I believe all that they say about reincarnation, and of course I believe in soul-mates-_

"Ouch!"

The book falls to the cement and the irritable Ganondorf growls in response.

"Watch it," he mumbles, a curtain of gold crossing his vision as the woman he's bumped into reaches down to pry the book from the cement.

"I'm so sorry," she gasps, brushing off the book's surface with perfectly manicured nails before returning the volume to its owner. Ganondorf barely spares a glance for the woman, noticing apathetically her snow-white skin and lavender peacoat before marching haughtily on.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbles, and notices that the woman is slow in leaving.

"Are you quite all right?" her voice sounds, drifting over the sidewalk and colliding with him.

That's when he stops. Turns.

Her crimson smile is fleeting as she turns away, long golden hair tumbling and twirling in the wintry gale.

"Fine- thank you-"

He's stumbling over his words again, and he catches the outline of her smile as she gives him one last look.

"Good- I'm glad."

_Those eyes._

"Take care!" she adds, and twirls about on her heel. She turns the corner with poise, shoulders back, chin held aloft-

_"Impossible_," he breathes, and shakes his head. _It's been two hundred years_, he reminds himself. _Two hundred…_

He catches his own eye in a shop window. Is he the man he remembers? He eyes his own dark skin, long, shaggy red hair, skin transformed by time, tattooed and covered in layers of leather…

...And yet he's lasted all this time…

_Hylia would never come back, _he insists, but his reflection doesn't look quite so certain. _Demise said it himself- Zelda's human memories were always too petty to remain with Hylia; only protecting the Triforce mattered to the goddess. But if there is no Triforce now, then what is left of the human world that's profound enough, important enough, that Hylia would be unwilling to let it go…?_

But even as he ponders those final words, a taxi cab screeches to a halt nearby and Ganondorf is reflected in the rearview mirror.

And then it hits him.

_Oh._

His heart thunders in his chest and he turns. Runs. Shouts.

"ZELDA! ZELDA!"

Her heels slow to a stop.

The city holds its breath.

* * *

_"With my ninth mind I resurrect my first_  
_and dance slow to the music of my soul made new." _

-Aberjhani, _Visions of a Skylark Dressed in Black_

* * *

**END**

* * *

**Thanks so much to anyone who read/reviewed/etc. I truly hope that you enjoyed this piece at least a little bit. Writing it has definitely made me look at the world of Zelda with a slightly new perspective, and I hope reading it has done the same for you! **

**-Ctj**


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